Makeshift
by Tha1n0nlYVoyGirl
Summary: This is a P/T drama, set during Christmas time. It seems that the whole crew is cheerful, except...


Comments can be sent to frky_vg@kittymail.com  
  
  
~Voy_Girl, the 23 - 30 November 2002.  
  
*** Special thanks to Angeldust, Chocho and the others  
who sort of beta read this story as a Christmas calendar.   
You rule! :D  
  
**************************************  
  
Makeshift  
  
by  
  
Voy_Girl   
  
  
*  
  
A mess hall, walls covered with all kinds of Christmas  
ornaments.   
One crowd, gathered around the shining tree in the  
middle.   
Two people, each having a far corner to themselves,  
the whole stretch of the otherwise table filled hall.  
Two people, in the same situation as all the others,   
but alone.   
Present, but not involved in the merry joy.  
  
One year ago, one of them hadn't time to even think   
about the season, as she was busy repairing a Maquis  
raider falling apart.  
The other person, on the other hand, had possessed  
all too much time to think about Christmas; too much time  
to think about everything. Perhaps that is what one can  
do locked up in a cheerless cell in a grey prison.  
  
They two persons, two strong individuals, nodded at  
the people strolling by, taking occasional sips of their  
equal drinks. Overall looking happy and filled with the  
merry holiday spirit.  
  
Neither of them wanted to show anyone else what   
they really felt and thought. Nor could no one tell  
that was the case, at least not no one who didn't  
share those blue thoughts and feelings...  
  
*  
  
B'Elanna let her bored gaze sweep over the   
crowded room, everyone else looked happy;   
everyone but herself. She could see the often present  
roar of laughter pass like a wave through the crowd  
gathered around some witty storyteller.   
She couldn't hear anything, as the loud carols surrounded  
her at all time, and as she was unable to find a calm and  
quiet place among the others, she stayed where she was   
and suffered in silence.  
  
Since both Chakotay and Harry were bound to the bridge  
the entire evening, she had no one to confine to.   
Her eyes settled for a moment, at first she couldn't   
understand why, as the pounding music seemed  
to stun her brain cells.   
She'd fixed her eyes on Tom Paris, without even knowing  
why herself.   
  
Then she immediately understood why she unconsciously   
had rested her eyes there.  
He was standing alone. B'Elanna smirked. That was a sight  
for her fading self-confidence during this holiday.   
If she couldn't find any joy in the season, she surely could   
find it in the fact that Tom was as alone as... herself.  
Her malicious grin faded. She tried to make up an   
acceptable reason to why Tom was alone, to dampen the  
realisation that they would have anything in common.  
  
Tom's body language was telling her something,   
touching some long forgotten spot inside of her, making a  
dusty bell ring.   
Maybe they did have something, perhaps even a lot, in  
common.   
The usually perfect appearance of his co-ordinates were  
disturbed tonight.   
There was a slight adjustment made by him, every then  
and now, just a millimeter here, and another there.   
And it bugged the living daylights out of her. There were  
just movements, but they were wrongly done. Wrongly   
performed by the only person why could make them right.  
  
B'Elanna's eyes narrowed, she desperately tried to discover  
the flaw so she could get some peace and finally leave, she   
judged that she'd been there long enough to not be classed  
as totally asocial.  
  
Maybe she finally was on to something! She squinted, and then   
made her decision.  
Tom almost looked...suffering. B'Elanna's eyes narrowed further,   
and not before she jumped involuntarily at the confused stare   
the passing Joe Carey gave her, she stopped.   
  
Tom looked abandoned, squirming uncomfortably where he stood,   
holding his glass of strong liquor as a shield in front of him.   
B'Elanna was certain he avoided something by creeping up as  
the mystery of the party, but she could not get what, nor why.  
She was also quite sure he hadn't noticed her searching look,   
his own was too lost and fleeing for that.  
It was amazing how he seemed to become another person alone.  
  
Not everyone were blowing their tops out this time of year.   
If might feel sad for some, but to B'Elanna in felt soothing. The   
knowledge of the divine fact that she wasn't alone warmed her,  
otherwise frozen to the season, heart. That is was her sworn   
enemy did not matter, she was not such an outcast as she'd  
always imagined. Or perhaps it was just him and herself who  
were the outcasts after all.   
  
Her lips curved upwards, not to form a smirk, but the beginning  
to a genuine smile, which though rapidly faded into an expression  
of pure determination.  
  
B'Elanna emptied her glass, her former cold drink had been warmed   
by her hand. No matter the state of it, she felt stronger.   
She took a deep breath, and hoped, she would be strong enough for  
what she was about to do.   
  
She had set her mind to finding out why Paris disliked Christmas as  
much as she did, she had not the shadow of a doubt within regarding  
if he really did; she was 100 percent sure, as sure as she was on what  
she thought about it herself.  
As sure on why she felt that way herself, something she didn't plan  
to share. But somehow, she was going to pull Tom Paris' reason out   
of him. It never occurred to her that he maybe had as deep and dark  
reasons as herself.   
  
She put the empty glass down on the long stretch of wood, placed   
beneath the windows. A few of the usual tables pushed together to  
from one long, wide place for snacks and drinks.  
  
B'Elanna discreetly looked towards the far exit, near Tom's chosen   
hide-out. She greeted a few tipsy members of her engineering team,  
and then, she began her walk, though it seemed endless.   
She had no idea why Tom's past and destiny suddenly interested  
her so much, perhaps it was because she saw something alike herself.  
Perhaps he wanted her to come.  
  
*  
  
She'd tramped fast, quite desperate to get rid of the feeling that told  
her she was on a never-ending path, a quest without an answer.  
She began to regret that last warm drink now, when it splashed   
around inside her stomach, putting up a violent fight with it.  
  
And so suddenly, so abrupt, so stunningly unexpected, she was there.  
At her goal. What she'd planned and decided to do was now within reach  
for her to solve. It scared her, the fact that when she was so close, it   
seemed so impossible to do something, anything.   
  
B'Elanna's usually sharp tongue stifled and stuck to her dry palate,   
she wished for Tom to be able to sense it and offer her a sip of his   
fifth-and-some loaded drink. He didn't.  
  
B'Elanna came even closer, slowing her pace down to the speed of a slug  
with meaning. At least, she made sure his eyes had locked with hers now,   
though she'd avoided just that a minute ago.   
  
She was very close to him now, only a meter or two. She began feeling   
the usual tension she'd had to live with as very young.   
During her first years in school, when she would talk in front of the entire  
class. The words wouldn't come put. This situation was exactly the same,   
with the slight difference that she'd chosen it herself. No one had made her,   
just a product of her own bored imagination.   
B'Elanna tried to remember what her teacher had hissed to her, while he'd  
shaken her shoulders in front of the whole class the first time she'd tell  
her classmates about her summer.   
"Focus on the words! Hold your head up high, the eyes fixed on a special  
spot!"  
  
The same words her old teacher had spoken, she found herself repeat   
silently almost twenty riveting years later.  
  
She looked at Tom, found the same suppressed loneliness as her own;   
it was like copied from her own soul. She shivered involuntarily, and  
realised how silly it was to not dare to say anything to him when it  
was her own outrageous invention to do it.  
Those hours she imagined had fled while she argued   
with herself, were in reality only a few seconds. And since Tom eyed   
her expectantly, she needed to get a grip.   
  
"I know," She finally said, as much to herself as to him. "How you're  
feeling." She said it calm and casually, like it had just come to her mind.  
  
B'Elanna just caught how the drowsy look on her opposite's face gave  
in to the shadows of doubt, before she stalked out of the high toned   
party atmosphere surrounding her.  
  
Even though she understood how silly it was now; she had stated   
already that Paris stood alone, she had no right to dig in further.   
But if he wanted to give her a reason, and at the same time make her  
feel better, she'd gladly accept it.  
  
*  
  
"Wait!" Tom called after her, as B'Elanna had figured he'd instinctively   
rush after her out into the hallway. It turned out he chose to follow   
her into the turbolift too, something she should have realized, and  
now had to face.  
  
"What were you saying back there?" He asked, momentary out of breath.   
  
She winced, should have known that he'd be pushy, and eventually   
she'd reveal her own secrets. Grinning her teeth, she swore that  
wouldn't happen. Somehow, she just had to make him tell her why  
he shared her lack of soothing inner peace which everybody seemed  
to crave present at Christmas.   
It was hard being so curious and inquiring, self-preserving and  
suspicious at the same time.   
  
"You don't enjoy this season," she said, adding damp moisture to   
her dry lips with her tongue, even though it was nearly as badly  
dehydrated.  
  
"Oh, so there's the big secret of mine you've revealed!" Tom gasped  
overacted and theatrical. "If that's the worse you can spit in my face,   
you've really turned faint-hearted."  
  
B'Elanna felt how her heart began beating faster, the evidence of her  
anger painted her eyes piercing with jet black dark from within.   
At the same time, she felt humiliated, amazed by how fast he could  
turn something into something else and throw it in her face.   
  
How could she believe that he shared, saw and believed what she did?  
Somewhere deep down, her true purpose had been to only be nice.  
  
"For all I know, this might be your way of telling me you're going to  
play nicer with me in the future... That would be the greatest present  
this year!"   
He continued mocking her.  
Ans she continued basking in waves of brutal internal anger.   
  
"I'm not going to give you any presents! I only hoped you were in  
the same boat as I am, but now I see you're just one of those who   
hate Christmas for no apparent reason."   
The last sentence was hissed warningly; she gave him a fair chance  
to surrender.  
  
"Please state your destination." The computer's announced request  
filled the turbolift. "It is now twenty and four days left until Christmas  
day."  
  
B'Elanna backed away from Tom, moving until her back met the cold   
surface which declined her the option to get any further.   
She banged her fists against the hard material, in growing vain.  
  
Tom made helpless emotions with his hands. His voice seemed to   
become softer, like the interrupting had made his irritations to dissolve  
and calm him down.  
"What is this really about?"  
  
"I don't like it either."  
  
"'It'?"  
  
"This holiday. And I made myself believe you would understand."  
B'Elanna lowered her gaze, feeling the force of uncertain blush shatter  
across her cheeks.  
She mentally wiped it away and looked up again.  
  
"Trust me," he sighed. "I do have a reason for how I feel."  
His eyes gleamed momentarily, before their gaze fled over the smooth  
surrounding.  
It avoided B'Elanna.  
  
She stroked the spot next to her, it had been warmed by the pressure of  
her hand; her sometimes raging and boiling blood.   
  
She had been right after all. He had a reason, and it hurt him.   
If he'd just keep his slick gaze still, maybe she'd be able to read and  
interpret more.  
  
B'Elanna asked, realising that she had nothing to lose by being pushy.  
"So what's the reason?"  
  
"What's yours?" Tom replied, casually folding his arms.  
  
Neither rhyme or reason.  
  
"Why should I tell you?"  
  
"Then why should I tell you?!" He snorted.  
  
"Stop counterargumenting!" She was about to loose her self-control   
completely.  
  
"Okay, then we'll just keep our own secrets to ourselves." Tom shrugged   
and finally ordered the turbolift to the holodeck.   
  
"Fine," B'Elanna pouted dangerously and took a step out from her poor  
and unreal hiding place. "Then we've just fought again without coming  
to an conclusion."  
  
Tom looked down. "Not really, we've found out that there's another person   
who feels something similar. After all, that's a tidy comfort."  
  
B'Elanna nodded warily. He was right.  
  
The turbolift had stopped at its commanded destination long ago, but  
Tom continued talking to B'Elanna, sounding more and more like a  
long lost friend.  
"I suggest we leave the past behind and create our own alternative  
Christmas celebration... Such as a round of pool."  
He ended with a wink B'Elanna could not misinterpret as anything more  
than it was.  
  
*  
  
Almost two hours later, B'Elanna left the holodeck with a relieved touch to  
the spring in her steps.  
She could not remember a first night in December when she hadn't felt low   
and been unable to sleep for a full night, if she could fall asleep at all.  
  
She felt better indeed, though she hadn't gotten her anticipated question   
answered. She didn't mourn too much though.   
If it so would be only for one night, she'd forget the rocky past and live  
for the moment and a better future.  
  
After two out of five rounds of pool won, probably out of Tom's mercifulness.  
Played under a scenting sole mistletoe swaying over the pool table, she did  
not envy the cheerful people taking over the mess hall.   
  
*  
  
What brought her to sleep that night was not exhaustion due to throbbing   
painful memories or swollen, tearstained cheeks; it was a red and green  
mixture to cheap Christmas drink. 


End file.
